


Dreaming in Orange and Black

by rinskiroo



Series: Dreaming in Orange and Black [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Universe, Dog BB-8, F/M, Fluff, Hamlet Jokes, Hurt/Comfort, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Other, POV Second Person, POV Third Person, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 13:18:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13214562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinskiroo/pseuds/rinskiroo
Summary: Some Poe x Reader fics I wrote for tumblr prompts.





	1. Shut Up and Dance

A party.  They were going to have a party.  A celebration before the real work of tearing down the D’Qar base and escaping into the stars.  There was going to be food and drink and loud music and dancing.  Dancing.

You had rolled your eyes when Poe had mentioned it and asked if you’d be there.  “What?  You don’t know how to dance?”  Before you could answer, he rushed off to the debriefing.

When he came back to the hangar later, you were sweaty and exhausted and just wanted a shower and a nap.  But you were proud of the work you and the other grunts had gotten done--packed up crates, loaded them onto grav carts and then onto shuttles to be transported to the star cruiser in orbit.  The hangar was now mostly empty except for one fighter undergoing emergency repairs and a few droids rolling about.

“Hey.”  Poe poked you on the shoulder.  “Are you ready?”

“For what?”

“I’m gonna teach you to dance so you don’t embarrass yourself at the party later.”  His lips and eyes were grinning, not a hint of malice in any of his words.  He was always like that--joking, playing.  Oh, he could be serious when he wanted, when it came to missions, sometimes.  Not flying, flying was for fun.  Not getting stabbed either, that was just “not ideal.”  “You’re going aren’t you?”  he asked when you didn’t respond and instead just stared at him like he had grown a second, very attractive, head.

“I might stop by for some food.  I hear they cleaned out what was left in the canteen.”

“Come on.  Send this old base off with a bang.”

His arm was extended, waiting for you to take his hand.  Months of casual flirting that you had decided was never going to come to anything was right there in front of you offering something more.  Maybe.  Maybe it was just a kindness of a man who really did think you couldn’t dance and that’s why you didn’t want to go to the celebration.  He was being kind, helpful Poe Dameron, not the I want to drag you off into a supply closet and--

“You’re not scared, are you, Sergeant?”

So it was going to be like that then.

You turned to face him fully and saw that quirk in his brow.  Yep, he was definitely throwing down a challenge.  His fingers wiggled, beckoning you to come closer.  You glanced around, checking to see if the hangar was still empty.  You needed witnesses for--

“Don’t look away.  Come on.”

“Okay, Dameron.”  You gave him a half-smile as you placed your hand in his.

His face broke into a wide, almost excited grin that you were giving in.  He placed your left hand on his shoulder; his right hand went to your shoulder blade, just under your arm.  With his left hand, he took your right.  Somehow, you hadn’t noticed that he’d changed.  Instead of his usual orange-red flight suit, he was wearing the thick, green Resistance uniform.  Lucky bastard had already had his shower and change of clothes.  He’d gotten some more ointment for his face as well--the swelling had gone down since the last time you’d seen him.  The cuts on his face were healing nicely.  He didn’t talk about what had happened to him while he’d been missing, not that it was any of your business.  You hoped that he was okay, that he wasn’t just putting on a brave face.

Poe was explaining the steps.  Feet together.  Step forward, rock back--you could listen to him talk like this all day.  Talk about absolutely nothing.  Just drone on and on.  You’d like to fall asleep to that noise.  He was so warm, too.  His hands were calloused, but gentle.  His body was firm, but nimble.  There was a skill and grace he seemed to carry into everything, whether it was the important work he did for the Resistance or just dancing with someone in an empty hangar.

“Keep your eyes on me, not your feet.”

Speaking of falling asleep.

Poe’s hand moved to tuck a finger under your chin and lift it up to look at him.  You weren’t watching your feet, but your head had drooped because you were exhausted and all you could think about was snuggling up next to him and nuzzling against his throat and--

“I really should--”

“Shh, you’re doing great.”

“Did you just shh--”

“Shh.  Okay, now step back with your right foot and rock forward on your left.”  His hand moved back to your shoulder and guided you through the movements of the dance.

Suddenly, you realized, he was a lot closer than he had been before.  His arm had curled you in towards him and you stepped on his foot.  He chuckled and apologized.  Apologized?  You’re the one that stepped on his foot!  He kept being so damn reassuring and nice and funny and--UGH.  His stupid face with the stupid dent in his nose and the little crinkles at his eyes and how he bit his stupid lip when he was happy.

All you wanted to do was mash your lips into his.  Put your tongue in his mouth.  Run your fingers through the curls in his hair.  Make him tell you all the dirty things--

“I really have to go,”  you announced abruptly, and loudly.

Startled, Poe stepped back, releasing you from his grip.  Aw.  Yeah, forgot you couldn’t take him with you.  He looked more than a little startled, maybe even hurt or sad.  Ow.

“I just really need to change out of this uniform,”  you said, trying to explain.  You could just be an adult and tell him how you felt.  How you were practically in love with him, but that was silly because you’d hardly had a serious conversation.  Just back and forth banter and a few lewd jokes.  Once he had taken you to the infirmary after you’d sliced your hand with a multitool and sat with you until the doc could see you--that was nice of him.  You talked about his home planet and yours.  Okay, so that kind of counts as a serious conversation and actually getting to know a person.  But still.

“Oh, yeah, right.”  He almost looked relieved and laughed.  Maybe he didn’t realize you’d been here literally all day working without a break.  You really hoped he couldn’t smell it on you.  Because that was not attractive.  At all.  “But you’ll be there tonight, right?”

Before you could stop yourself:  “Of course!”  Because as much as you just wanted to lay in your bunk and ignore the world and pass out for a few hours, you knew you’d never get any sleep thinking about the Commander with his arms around you trying to teach you salsa steps.

  


The celebration was as loud as you expected.  You didn’t fault them at all for their exuberance.  Friends, people they knew, loved, people you had known and loved, had died in the Hosnian System and in the battle that followed.  You just preferred a quieter celebration and not so many people all hugging each other and slapping each other on the back.  So you sat on a crate outside with your small plate of finger foods the cooks had whipped up out of what was left in the mess hall.  You could still hear the music and the loud talking from inside, but it wasn’t overwhelming.  The night was nice--just a bit of a breeze.  No clouds, so the stars and moon shone brightly.

“What are you doing out here?  Party’s inside.”

And there he was.  Stupid head Poe Dameron.  With the tunic of his uniform undone and hanging open.  His hair tousled and maddeningly floofy.  Was that even a real word?   _Floofy._  He settled next to you on the crate and picked one of the fruits off your plate and plopped it into his mouth.  How dare.

“They’re all a bit intense.”

He chuckled and nodded.  He didn’t try to make excuses for their behavior.  Didn’t try and convince you to go ahead and come on back inside.  He just smiled and agreed and ate the food off your plate.

“Which ship are you assigned to?”

“Ackbar’s.”

“Oh yeah?  Me too.”  He grinned.  And winked.

That little shit.

He wiped his hands on his trousers and hopped off the crate.  Before you could ask him if he had a hand in personnel assignments, he had jumped to another topic.  “Do you think oridum will replace selenium?  It’s got some interesting conductive properties.  Maybe not for small droid use--but larger automated systems.”

You cocked your head and squinted at him.  You almost asked him what the hell he was going on about because there was no way oridum production was going to keep up with demand like selenium.  And then he looked…. embarrassed?  His hand came up and scratched at the back of his head and he laughed lightly.  He shrugged his shoulders and turned back towards the party.  He muttered something, sounded almost like he was just gonna go and leave you alone now.

“I think you promised me a dance?  I mean, that was the reason you were bothering me earlier, wasn’t it?”

It never really occurred to you that maybe he was as unsure about what to say to you as you were to him.  It was easy to joke and make momentary small talk, but talk about things that mattered--feelings?  Yeesh.  That little thought made you grin, though.  That maybe you had this one little awkwardness in common.

You set aside your plate and hopped off the crate.  This time, you were the one holding your hand out to him.  You both smiled when he took it and once more put his arm under yours and pulled you in close.  It was fortuitous that the music from inside changed into something suited to the steps you had been practicing earlier.  Or perhaps Poe had a hand in that as well.

When he started to remind you of the steps, you shook your head at him.  You watched his eyes because not only were they gorgeous rings of deep brown, but you wanted to see the moment that he realized there was something he didn’t know about you.

“You were holding back on me,”  he said as you spun around before he folded you back into his arms.

“Mmhmm.”

“Are you gonna let me lead?”

“Can you?”  You grinned at him as you pulled away, twisted, and again he pulled you back next to him.

Before you could react, there was the warm press of his lips against yours.  His hand had moved across your back and pressed you closer to him.  He was all hot mouth and tongue and tasting of those sweet fruits he had stolen from your dinner.  That was one way to lead.  He was very good at leading.


	2. I Believe in You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #poe pov #younger poe #star wars universe #unemployment sucks

Poe was running through the afternoon’s simulations as he road the maglev across the city.  His fingers, wrapped around the metal pole to help keep his balance in the crowded car, tapped the firing sequence.  General Antilles had said his reactions were slow.  Poe didn’t agree, but what the General had said had stuck and so he went over the entire simulation over and over in his head on the way home.

 Almost a year out of the Academy and everything he did was still training: simulations, briefings, manuals, drills, exercises.  He wasn’t even in the planetary defense rotation yet.  All that potential they all talked about at the Academy wasting away in the atmosphere of the Capital.

“Hey, sweetheart, I’m home.”  Poe dropped his bag to the floor as he entered the small apartment and rolled the kink in his shoulder from the long train ride.  The lights were on, so he knew she was home, but there was no response.  With a shrug, he walked to the kitchen to poke around for some dinner.

“Man, Antilles was riding me so hard today,”  he called out, hoping to pull her out from wherever she was hiding so someone could listen to him complain.  “‘Reaction times are off.  Too hot on the landing.’  I could be his old pal Luke Skywalker and it still wouldn’t be good enough for him.  Hey!  There’s nothing to eat!  How about that new Wookiee place?  I could go for some chyntuck. Mmmmm.”

He turned when he heard the sniffle.  She was standing there in the oversized, shabby HPU sweatshirt that she always wore when she was having a bad day.  She pulled the sleeves over her hands and wiped her face, but there was no hiding that she had been crying--a lot.  Poe walked over and wrapped his arms around her.  “Guess we’ll order in.  What’s the matter?”

“I lost my job,”  she said quietly with her face resting against his shoulder.  “My whole team and two other offices.”

“What?  Why?”  Poe rubbed his hands along her back, trying to bring some comfort to what he knew was a terrible blow.

“Eliminating redundancy,”  she practically snarled.  “The CEO was on the evening newscast talking about all the money he saved the company.  Didn’t mention the people he tossed aside to do it.”

“Well, he’s a moron.  I hope he goes under in two months because you’re not there putting out all the fires.”

“Nooooo,”  she whined, rubbing her face into the fabric of his uniform because he knew she was trying not to smile at his attempt to make her feel better.  “I don’t want my friends to lose their jobs, too.”

“Okay, maybe he’ll get hit by a speeder.  Attacked by a swarm of bees.  Suffer explosive diarrhea in a public place.”

“Poe.”  But she couldn’t help it.  She pulled back and, despite herself, smiled at him.  He leaned forward to press a kiss to her lips.  The smile didn’t last and an anxious look of worry overtook her features.  “What are we going to do?”

“Well, I signed a four-year engagement so I’m employed for the foreseeable future.”  Not that a first-year Lieutenant’s pay was all that significant.  “I’m sure you’ll find something right away.”

She frowned at him, or maybe it was more of a wince.  She took a step away and wrapped her arms around herself.  “I’m gonna have to move back to Chandrila and live with my parents.  You can at least move into the barracks--you keep saying you want to hang out with your squadron more.”

“Yeah, outside work like dinner and karaoke, not _live_ with them.  Sweetheart--”  He moved closer to her again, but she still had her arms bundled up around her.  “Come on, you’ll bounce back.”

She mumbled something he didn’t quite catch at first.  When he raised an eyebrow at her, she repeated it in a slightly-less mumble,  “It’s been three weeks.”

“Oh, baby.”  He sighed and wrapped his arms back around her and pulled her in close as she started to cry again.  “Why didn’t you tell me?  Why’d you get ready in the morning and act like you were going to work?  You know I love you no matter what.”

Her shoulders shuddered and shrugged against him.  “I didn’t know what else to do.  Sometimes I wander around the museums, or feed the pigeons in Liberty Park.  Last week I rode the maglev for six hours.”

“Wow.”  He chuckled and pressed his lips into her hair.  “I can barely stand it for the hour I’m on it.”

Poe shuffled his feet to the side and sat down in the chair and pulled her into his lap.  They just sat there for a moment while he rubbed her back until the sniffles faded and the tears slowed.  “Do you want to move back home?”

Her head shook as she rested it on his shoulder.

“Good.  I’d have a hard time falling asleep if you’re not here.”

“But we can’t afford this place, Poe.”

“There are other places.  How about we go get some cheap, unhealthy takeout, buy a bottle of bottom-shelf wine--”  He grinned as he felt her make a disgusted face against his shoulder.  “Then we can look up other apartments.  Something outside the business district, maybe closer to the base and then we can save on train fare, too.”

She sniffled.  “But what if I can’t find anything.  I’ll just be this parasite--”

“A cute parasite.”

“ _Poe_.”

“Hey.”  He leaned back so he could look at her.  Carefully, he placed his hands on her cheeks and rubbed away some of the tears with his thumbs.  “You’re gonna find something.  Maybe you won’t like it as much, maybe the new people won’t be as amazing as your old team, maybe the pay won’t be as good, or maybe it’ll be the best job ever.  I believe in you.”

Poe pulled her in closer to him and pressed his lips against hers.  Softly at first, then slowly building in intensity as he wrapped his arms around her.  He held onto her and kissed her until she gasped for a breath.  He smiled when her lips pulled away and she rested her forehead against his.

“You’re the best.”

“Yep.  I kind of am.”  He laughed and pulled back when she smacked him in the chest.  “I was agreeing with you!”


	3. You, Me, & Beebee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #cuddle prompt: crying #modern au #my first 2nd person pov fic #dog bb-8

“She just--she fell over, and then she walked into a wall.”  When Poe walked into the small apartment, you were on the floor, cradling the young, orange mutt in your arms.  There were wet streaks down your face from crying, but you just kept rocking back and forth with the poor, little animal.  You and Poe had picked her up off the streets, alone and dirty, with no tags.  After weeks of trying to find her owner, you decided to keep her.  Poe had insisted.

Poe dropped his bag to the ground and rushed over to where you were still trying to explain what had happened.  “I came home to feed her, but she wasn’t--she wasn’t herself and--”

“Okay, okay.”  Poe knelt down next to you and brushed a hand over your head before reaching down to scratch the dog behind her ears.  The dog lazily turned her head to lick his hand.  Poe unzipped one of the many pockets of his green flightsuit and pulled out his phone.  “Have you called the vet?”

You nodded and rubbed your face against your shoulder, still clutching onto the pup.  “Yeah, I was just waiting for you and the truck.”

Poe finished sending the quick text on his phone, probably to Wexley saying he’d be late coming back after lunch.  He pushed the phone back into his pocket and leaned forward slightly to press a kiss into your hair.  “You did good, babe.  Come on, Beebee.”  Poe wedged his arms under the dog and lifted her up out of your lap and carried her down the two flights of stairs.

Poe drove that old pick up the way you imagined he flew a jet.  Eyes always scanning ahead for the opportune time to change lanes, and making sure to always use his blinker.  You made it to the vet in record time and they whisked your sweet Beebee back into the emergency exam room as soon as you were through the door.

Your teeth were biting into your knuckles as you watched the door impatiently.  You nearly jumped when Poe wrapped his arms around you and whispered that Beebee was going to be okay; she was a tough little mutt.  You turned around and pushed yourself against him, burying your face into the fabric of his flightsuit.  There was that familiar whiff of metal and jet fuel, the smells that always seemed to cling to his uniform even after repeated washings.

“I should have worked from home today,”  you mumbled against him, your voice ending in a sob you tried to swallow back.  “I don’t have to go in to answer emails…”

“Shh.”  Poe wrapped his arms around you and rubbed a hand over your back.  “It’s not your fault.”

Poe stood there, solid and unwavering, while you cried into his chest.  If he was worried about Beebee, and you knew he had to be, he didn’t show it.  He was strong for the both of you, hoping the little pup you both had brought into your home and loved was going to pull through.

Later, when the vet brought you back to see Beebee, Poe held you again as you cried tears of relief.  The little rascal had eaten something she wasn’t supposed to, but they flushed her system and gave her some fluids.  Beebee was nearly back to her usual self, tail wagging and trying to lick all over your faces when you and Poe sat down next to her.

“See, nothing to worry about.”  Poe squeezed your hand and smiled at you, but you could see how his shoulders had relaxed and the remainder of a few of his own tears that he’d pushed back with his other hand.

You smiled back and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek.  “We’re puppy-proofing when we get home.”

“Damn right we are.”


	4. Sick Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #cuddle prompts: sick roommates #modern au #hamlet jokes

“Baaaaaaaaaabe…”  Poe whined.  The pitiful sound pinged off the tile in the bathroom and drifted down the hall.

You sighed and dropped the magazine you had been reading to the floor before rolling off the couch.  All of last night’s bad decisions had taken their own toll on your head and stomach, but apparently you were made from sturdier stuff than the Best Man.  You grabbed the half-empty bottle of Pepto off the counter before making the umpteenth trip down to the bathroom.

“Did you barf up the coffee told you not to drink?”  You leaned up against the doorframe and quirked an eyebrow at him, the pink bottle dangling in your fingers.

Poe frowned and sulked back against the tub.  “No.”

Your eyes glanced at the still-warm cup of coffee sitting on the floor near him, and then back to him.

“ _Yes_ …”

“Here, take some of this.”  You unscrewed the cap on the Pepto and shoved it at him.

His nose scrunched up on his face, which if he weren’t such a sad pile of hungover and possible food poisoning, would be kind of cute.  “I don’t like that stuff.”

With a sigh, you rolled your eyes.  “And I don’t like that Pava and I had tickets to Hamlet tonight, but I have to take care of your miserable butt.”  You shoved the medicine in front of him and didn’t move until he took the bottle and took a long swig out of it.  His eyes never left yours as he drank the tonic, whether out of irritation or jealousy that you had won the battle with your digestive system, you weren’t sure.

Poe sighed and grumbled as some of the thick, pink liquid dribbled down his chin and onto shirt and sweats.  “How am I such a mess of a person.  This is the worst.”  Again with the whining.

You couldn’t help but chuckle a little as you grabbed a towel and knelt down next to him.  You cleaned the Pepto off of his chin and tried not to fall into him when he grabbed your hand and again looked into your eyes.  “Why aren’t you a mess right now?”  he asked, his voice soft, losing the childish whimper he’d been working all day.

“I drank water before the reception instead of doing lines of shots with the groomsmen.  I also told you Taco Bell at four a.m. was a bad idea.”

“I’m never eating Taco Bell again,”  he said rather seriously.  “They’re not real tacos.”

A large grin spread over your face and you nodded at his sickroom epiphany.  “We’ll get some real tacos tomorrow, okay?  Come on.”  You helped him up to his feet and motioned to his dirty clothes, now stained with pink droplets.  “I’ll do a load of laundry and then we can watch a movie or something.”

You helped him pull his shirt over his head, but stepped back into the doorway and turned your head when he started pulling off his sweatpants.  Not that sharing this apartment for the past year hadn’t already given both of you some accidental (and not-so-accidental) peeks at each other partially clothed.

“You don’t have to stay here.  Go ahead and see Hamlet with Jess,”  he said after handing you the clothes and stepping up the sink.  He splashed water on his face and then squirted toothpaste onto his toothbrush.  But you just stood there, barely even realizing that you had turned back to look at him and just stopped to admire the view.  He turned and grinned, toothbrush hanging from his lips.  “I hear the lead spends half the play without pants.”

“Uh-huh.”  You shook your head and started walking down the hall.  “Jess already asked Rose to go instead.  You’ll just have to buy me tickets to make up for it.”

After you had dumped the dirty clothes into the wash and started the machine, you found Poe already sprawled out on the couch.  He had brought a pillow and a blanket and left almost no room for you.  You put a box of saltines and a sports drink on the table, then set a bucket on the floor next to the couch, just in case.  When you stood in front of his face, blocking his view of the TV, he finally sat up slightly to let you squeeze onto the couch.

“I hate being sick,”  he confessed and snuggled his head into your lap as the Disney logo and fanfare started playing on the television.

“I couldn’t tell.”  You smirked and brushed your fingers through his hair.  “What are we watching?”

“The Lion King.  It’s basically Hamlet.”  He grinned and turned his head slightly to kiss the top of your leg and then settled in for the movie.  “Simba also doesn’t wear pants.”

You laughed and playfully pushed at him.  “As if I haven’t seen enough sloppy, naked men today.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://rinskiroo.tumblr.com/).


End file.
